A Dog's Life (The Romney and Marsh Files Book 4) Read Online Free PDF Page A

crimes.’ She flicked open a file with a colourful sticky-notelet marking a page and read. ‘Could of, would of, should of. It’s could have , would have , should have . Style is something one has, not something one should be climbing over in a field. That is a stile - s.t.i.l.e. Piece p.i.e.c.e. is a part of something. Peace p.e.a.c.e. relates to a state of concord. A draw er is something that slides in and out of furniture. Making a picture is d.r.a.w.’ To general relief, she closed that file and turned her attention to another. The general relief soon evaporated. ‘Sick days. Dover CID has had more absences in the last year than both Maidstone and Ashford – both of which are at least twice the size of here. That trend must be reversed immediately.’
    She removed her glasses and set them on the table in front of her. ‘I could go on, but I hope to have made my point. These,’ she prodded the files, ‘paint a picture of sloppiness and suggest practices not in accord with current thinking. It is clear to me that CID is sloppy. And I won’t tolerate it. The working of this office seems more like something out of Life on Mars without the charm, wit or education than twenty-first century Kent police.’ Her gaze came to settle on Grimes. ‘What do you weigh?’
    Grimes hesitated and it was clear to all that he thought about lying. Instead, he said, ‘Not sure ma’am. Scales are broken.’
    ‘If you were the last one on them, I’m not surprised. From where I’m sitting, you need to lose at least twenty kilos – and quickly, or you could find yourself the subject of an official recommendation. All serving police officers are expected to possess and maintain a minimum level of fitness.’
    Grimes went ashen but said nothing.
    ‘Any questions?’ No one moved or spoke. ‘Right. That’s all I have to say for now. It’s going to be shape up or ship out. And that is my friendly warning. Your only one.’ She meant all of them. ‘I intend to be a far more frequent visitor to CID than I imagine my predecessor was. You would be well advised to bear that in mind. You could start by having a tidy up. It’s a tip. Dismiss. Inspector Romney, you will stay behind, please.’
    They filed out with the dispirited air of a cell of captured spies rather than the police of a free country. The last one out closed the door. Romney waited. Under the table, his knee had begun to bounce.
    Superintendent Vine pulled another buff file out from her pile and laid it open.
    ‘Jimmy Savage. Currently serving a lengthy custodial sentence for the manslaughter of one John Stafford.’
    That was a change of direction that had Romney surprised. Savage was old news. At least three years. Why would Boudicca want to talk about that?
    Savage had been convicted of beating a man to death outside The Prince Albert on Biggin Street on a Christmas day. There had only been one witness. He had identified Savage as lurking about in the shadows outside as he had walked past once with his dog and then on his way back past he had seen Savage running away from the scene where a man was found with his skull smashed in from a single blow delivered by something rounded and solid. There had been no doubts in the witness’s mind at all. He had needed no coaxing to make his statement. The police had gone quickly from the scene of the crime to Savage’s home in Tower Hamlets. They hadn’t needed directions. No murder weapon had been found, but traces of the dead man’s blood had been found on clothes that Savage was still stupidly and arrogantly wearing. His wife had sworn that he had been home with her and their son all evening.
    ‘We have received word that Mr Savage is preparing to lodge an appeal against his conviction, which would have serious implications for Dover CID.’
    ‘Such as?’ said Romney – and there was something of the simmering resentment about him.
    ‘Inspector Romney, I do not want to believe that anyone serving in my police